


that stormy morning felt like a dream

by antiquitea



Series: Into the Fire [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Near Future, Original Character(s), Psychic Abilities, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7430309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquitea/pseuds/antiquitea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if it was something inconsequential, something to make Noah feel better, perhaps even smile, William always said something.</p><p>The fact that he didn’t caused Noah to swallow down that lump of fear residing in his throat even harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that stormy morning felt like a dream

**Author's Note:**

> Based on characters created by myself and [flyicarus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flyicarus) for a role playing game. Noah Abbott looks like Chis Evans, William Carrigan looks like Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Universe in which the story takes place in is similar to the one in [Push (2009)](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0465580).

He glanced out the window, surveying the desolate industrial park around them, abandoned buildings with shattered windows and boarded up doors, all just a front, for few buildings in the area were truly void of a presence at one time or another. The rain fell in torrents from the sky above, splashing down in puddles on the ground, cascading down the metal sheeting along the sides of supposedly abandoned buildings. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for the rain, in fact he loved it, but circumstances dictated that staying indoors would probably advantageous to living.

Noah turned from the window with an audible sigh, his gaze settling upon his mentor, William, who sat in a rickety chair with a broken back, loading bullets into a pistol. At the sound of the younger man’s voice, William glanced up and offered Noah something that resembled a smile, before turning his attention back to his task. Noah fidgeted; it was rare that William had nothing to say in moments such as this.

Moments that felt dire, moments that felt as if they may be their last. No, William always had something to say, not a fan of silence or allowing Noah to stew in the fear that he kept in the back of his mind, putting on a brave face and looking older than his twenty-one years whenever he did. Even if it was something inconsequential, something to make Noah feel better, perhaps even smile, William always said something.

The fact that he didn’t caused Noah to swallow down that lump of fear residing in his throat even harder.

“William –”

“I know, kid. I know.”

Noah had expected something perhaps a bit more … more. Pursing his lips, Noah wandered over to the chair which William occupied, fearful that this was it. It. Not exactly a concept he’d thought much of before, but something always in the back of his mind since he had joined the rebellion. It had occurred to him multiple times that he may die, and he’d come close, but never this close. He didn’t have time for fear, they had to get out.

The surrounding buildings of the industrial park, so-called abandoned warehouses, were swarming with agents from Division. The target, two members of the rebellion currently holed up in a burnt out warehouse, low on ammo and weapons, and without back-up. The odds were not in the favour of rebels on that stormy morning.

William stood and thrust the gun he’d been loading into Noah’s unexpected hand, and the younger man gaped at him for a moment with wide eyes. “I can’t –”

“Yes, you can. I don’t need it.”

That fear returned to his throat, and Noah searched for the resolve that he knew he possessed. One gun, not enough bullets, and two of them. How could Noah protect the two of them with a pistol that may serve better as projectile than a fire arm? He inhaled a shaky breath, and William placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, look at me.” Noah raised his eyes from the pistol he held in his hands and looked into William’s eyes. Within them, he found his resolve, his strength, his bravery. “I’m not asking you to be a hero, I’m not even asking you to get us out of this mess. I got us into it, I’ll get us out. I’m just asking you to stay alive. Got it?”

Noah nodded, taking a deep breath and flicking his thumb against the safety on the gun, watching that small smile grace William’s face once more. “Good. Ready?”

“No.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Noah,” William said sternly, “no matter what happens, it will be okay. Don’t think, just do. Shoot, run, move. I’ll get you out of here.”

With that, William gave Noah’s shoulder one last, reassuring squeeze, that lingered perhaps longer than it had before, but Noah didn’t care, didn’t notice. He pushed himself away from Noah, advanced toward the two large doors at the front of the warehouse, Noah following behind a couple of paces. If William was as terrified as he was, he didn’t show it, merely raised his hands, moving the doors open and stepping outside as if going for a stroll.

Noah’s heart thudded in his ears, and he followed William out into the storm.

#

They’d made it out of the industrial park, with a few hours of morning left to spare, and flesh wounds to show for it. Arriving back at base, Julian had spent fifteen minutes yelling at William, pointing an accusing finger into his chest, hand on her hip, while Noah watched, waiting for William to react. Of course, he didn’t, simply raised an eyebrow from time to time, occasionally huffing out a sigh.

After being berated, William grabbed Noah by the arm and they made their way to medical. Most of the doctors and nurses were otherwise occupied, tending to others from their mission which had gone horrible wrong, ones they’d been separated from. William tended to Noah’s cuts himself, wiping at the blood above Noah’s eyebrow, getting him an icepack for the bruising skin along his collarbone.

How they’d survived, Noah didn’t rightly know. But William had promised he’d get Noah out of there, and lo and behold, he had. It felt unreal, to have been trapped in the burned out warehouse (a few of the buildings around it leveled, William told him there’d been a raging inferno there years before), and to make it out alive. Noah had assumed they’d be dead before noon, and looking up at the wonderful man looming over him, he knew it had been a foolish thing to think. It was okay, just as William had promised.

“It’s okay, right?” Noah asked, voice light as he looked up at William, watching his face as his wounds were tended to.

Letting out a low chuckle, a sound Noah reveled in hearing, William nodded and met the younger man’s gaze. “Yeah, kid. It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://antiquitea.tumblr.com) where I yell in my tags a lot about how angry attractive boys make me.


End file.
